


My Morning Mug of Sleep

by RedKoyoteK



Category: CountryHumans, Geography (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: 1940s, 1950s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, Coffee, CountryHumans - Freeform, Dorks in Love, Drinking & Talking, Dysfunctional Family, Fear of Flying, Gunplay, Gunshot Wounds, Homophobic Language, Letters, Love/Hate, M/M, Nationalism, Neighbors, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Post-World War II, Power Outage, Russian Roulette, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29765484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKoyoteK/pseuds/RedKoyoteK
Summary: Andrey took his first steps into adult life and ran, away from his family and to an entirely different country; he took his first days of freedom in the cold rain and new surroundings as a challenge to see how quickly he could screw up and all things considered, he succeeded spectacularly.Thank the world that Coffee exists.
Relationships: Estonia & Finland (Anthropomorphic), Finland/Russia (Anthropomorphic), Poland & Hungary (Anthropomorphic), Russia & United States (Anthropomorphic)
Kudos: 3





	My Morning Mug of Sleep

The Sheremetyevo Airport lit up the city as it awoke in the early morning, with that sort of glow of a blinding unnatural white, one that washed out any colour before fading to an acidic dandelion yellow and rotten peach. The sun rose over the trees to meet squinting eyes; just barely grazing the tops of buildings letting the him bask in the heat buzzing through his head and the sharp rumble of screeching tyres as he stood waiting at the side of the road. A hum of busses and trucks in his wake as he waited; a chill of early Winter frost at his fingertips and crunching beneath his soles, muted brown and dirty; simple work shoes lined with a thin strip of fur just above his ankles.

He stood in silence, waiting for anyone to show up, to bid him farewell before he left and he glanced around sporadically as his patience began to dwindle. He bit at the inside of his mouth as he waited and watched families bundle around, hugging like those were their last moments alive, praying and in tears as they all slowly all took their turns bidding the groups adieu and walking through the entrance with nothing but suitcase and bag in hand.  
‘Did they forget?’ He scoffed, of course they had, and if they hadn’t, they probably chose to avoid angering their dear father no matter how their hearts may have ached; he wept that day with his siblings at home, all bundled up on the old couch under one shared blanket that they had painstakingly made sowing all their old blankets together; the work was mediocre and it had to be fixed again every few months but it was theirs. It smelled of lemon, tea was spilt onto it and never scrubbed out, not the stain nor the smell.

The old watch on his wrist rang louder in his ears as time neared to enter the building, he’d have just enough time to reach his plane and yet he caught himself praying for someone, anyone to come see him go. He wasn’t religious by any means, hiding behind his old community church to make out was well enough proof for him but he still waited, watch ticking like a timer counting down his eventual disappearance from the country and it left a sour taste in his mouth, and he mentally reminded himself to buy gum before getting onto the plane. The crunching of snow grew louder past that of his watch and it gave him a moment to stand in the low hum of traffic in peace, he looked back down at his watch, ‘3 hours left’ before short arms slipped beneath his own, startling him and wrapped around his waist, the hands were soft, with short slender fingers; the giggles that erupted behind his back caused him to sigh with a sort of fondness, hands accented in black wool gloves.

He rested his head back, glancing down at wide doe eyes of dark hazel and speckled amber, all encompassed by rosy round cheeks and those staple family curls, “You brought me my gloves? Thank you, I forgot them” and he waited, the fingers flexed into fists and back out fluidly against his winter coat; his sister looked up at him, hiding the lower half of her face in his coat just like she’d always done as when they were kids and he knew then that she was pouting, her eyes looked glossy, like he was looking at them through stained glass; the edges gathering tears before she pressed her face further into his back, leaving him to stand and wait before she hiccupped lightly, moving her head back up to talk.

“You wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, right?” she continued to look up at him with those wide glossy eyes, his heels dug into the ground and he paused to think about what to say; he winced, wanting so much to just look away, he didn’t want that guilt. He looked back down, pressing his hands to his coat “of course not, if you let go of me then we can hug properly” and her hands slowly coiled away allowing him to turn around to look down at her, short and round unlike anyone else in their family, yet she still bore those grey hairs that crept from her temples to her forehead, hidden well by an old gifted headscarf, patterned in traditional floral and backdropped by a striking red hue which dropped limp over her shoulders to hide a majority of the braiding gathering beneath the fabric.

“I’d never leave without saying goodbye, what kind of brother would I be?” He bent down slightly and wrapped his arms above her shoulders, bumping heads with her as she reached up to hug him back causing them both to chuckle lightly. She reached one hand up from his back and carefully into his hair, letting her fingers run through and ruffle his hair like they did when they were kids, once longer and a striking dark chestnut brown but faded and grey as years slowly passed before their eyes, unlike his sister a decent amount of hair was grey, only the hairs near the back of his scalp and nape still fully retained their natural colour.  
Their mother called it charming but the siblings were never convinced, that is, until their father told them to stop complaining, standing behind his desk, back from work with a glass of whiskey in hand and bags under his eyes rivalling the colour of the bruises wracking his knuckles and palms; for he too, had grey hair. “you’d be a horrible brother” she quipped back.

She lightly patted his hair down, combing the tips of her fingers through the ends and knots before moving away, taking two small steps back and carefully pulling off his gloves, folding them in the palm of her hand and holding them out for him. He picked them up, gently dropping them in the inner pocket of his coat. They glanced around as an argument broke out in front of them, pushing and shouting making her sigh, shaking her head from the disturbance; two shadows slowly loomed beside them, blocking out the sun just out of their corner of their eyes. One cracking their fingers, the other resting his hands behind his neck; coughing lightly as they waited to be noticed, the cold air leaving their mouths like puffs of cigar smoke.  
“What took you two so long?” She looked around her brother and stared up, turning to rest her arms on her hips as she looked up. “I thought you wouldn’t come at all to say goodbye!” They both paused in silence, the same look echoing on their faces as they quickly glanced at each other. “We both have work, it’s a far way from the airport” the one on the right retorted, resting the palm of his hand against his forehead, flicking stray strands of grey away from his eyes.

“What he means is that we got here as fast as we could” The one on the left lifted up his hand, flicking the other’s nape; hair messily combed away from his face and instead resting down and framing his wider jaw, nicks and scars on his cheeks underlining his dropping eyes; The grey trailed down through their hair in two thick lines. “Yeah, that’s what I meant” he choked out, throwing his hand up behind his neck and glaring before the both of them looked back, holding out their arms for a hug. “We would never miss this” they repeated back.  
He shook his head and chuckled before reaching over and hugging them both, the brothers standing there quivering from the cold before they stepped away, both ruffling his hair; their sister huffing behind them.

“Don’t forget about us Andrey, you sure you have everything?” His siblings lined up before him, hands tangled in coat pockets or on sleeves as they looked at the youngest fondly, yet their smiles faintly drooped as they stood, oh how they wished to go with him. He quickly looked down at his watch to check the time, two hours and some 40 minutes left, he still had time; he reached around in the bag he had thrown over his shoulder and pulled out two journals, leather and bound cleanly, a pen each clipped over the front binding keeping them closed. He held one journal out to them, their sister delicately holding it between her fingers before they looked back at him, confusion evident in their features, eyebrows momentarily raised.  
“I bought journals so that I may document everything that happens while I am in America, and I bought two just in case but I wish for you to have it instead” he tapped the top of the second journal and grinned, oh how it pained him to leave. “So, while I’m gone you can document anything that I may miss” The twins nodded and rested an arm each over their shoulder, their sister cradling the journal to her chest and nodding solemnly.  
  
  


He grabbed the standing suitcase and jutted his shoulder up, the bag jumping up his shoulder comfortably and letting out a soft thud as his journal was placed back in with his passport, papers resting in a folder and tickets along with them just grazing his fleeting touch. “Ilya-” He rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder, hand tangling in one of the prominent grey lines, “Try not to get greyer before I come back, okay?” They both chuckled, his brother lightly hitting his shoulder “Мудак, do you even have any hair left to grey?” and it was his turn to get jabbed, feigning death as he let go of his twin and rested his hand over his eyes. His other brother jutted away “don’t hit me, I have to get back to work later” and laughed, painfully strained however it may be but laughed. “Good luck at work Nikolai, I’ll be back in a few years for your money anyways” and he flashed a toothy wide grin causing his brother to back up, eyes wide and mouth ajar, “You wish!”

His sister was last, she walked up to him and held up her hand to brush away the side of his hair, swatting it back as she tried to hold back tears; gently cleaning up his scarf, patting it down and stepping away, a hand hovering in the air between them “Get back soon, be safe and healthy-” around them the crowds began to disperse, he’d have to go now, he smiled before quickly standing up and walking towards the entrance of the building, only when standing by the door did he look back around and wave before he pushed the door open, stepping in and basking at the interior, the sheer size of the first room and rows of lined seats, heat reddening his face and frost dropping off of his shoes at the entrance. He pulled the suitcase behind him over the ledge, a slight squeak of the wheels as he dragged it forwards.  
He looked across to the other side of the building, a large glass wall of meticulously cleaned windows, and past them the concrete runway and planes; workers and passengers all making their way towards the hulking machines of metal that supposedly flew, and would fly him all the way to another country across waters and lands alike, he wiped his hand over his mouth before stepping forwards to the main desk. One cough, then another; _this was going to take a while._

**Author's Note:**

> Russia / Андрей Ле́бедев / Andrey Lebedev  
> Ukraine / Николай Ле́бедев / Nikolai Lebedev  
> Belarus / Илья́ Ле́бедев / Ilya Lebedev  
> Georgia / Аня Ле́бедева / Anya Lebedeva  
> I apologise for such a short first chapter, I'll be working towards the second one being longer :)  
> I'm not one for uploading often but I'll try to make the chapters worthwhile due to the sparsity.


End file.
